Conscience
by sonryz
Summary: One shot. 'Conscience is what hurts when everything else feels good.' RoyEd, but Roy's starting to have doubts... Semigraphic lemonish blah.


_"Conscience is what hurts when everything else feels good."_

* * *

Here is a house.

This is the house of Roy Mustang.

Inside is a bedroom.

This is the bedroom of Roy Mustang.

In the corner rests a bed.

This is the bed of Roy Mustang.

On the bed lies Edward Elric.

This is the dream of Roy Mustang.

.

The room is dark, and warm, and full of heady musk.

Soft groans slide through the heavy air from the two bodies lying entwined on the bed, gently rocking against each other in the stifling gloom.

Sweat-soaked sheets.

Sleek smooth skin.

Friction.

Heat.

And Roy Mustang, gently easing himself in and out of the writhing and moaning boy beneath him, wondering, _'How on earth did I manage to get it like this?_

The boy emitted another desperate, pleasured groan.

_Then again, what does it matter?_

In his hand, Edward Elric's swollen pleasure leaks forth white water, spilling over the colonel's gently stroking fingers. Precious gasps emit from waves of ecstasy and Edward arches his small back again, whimpering softly as Roy presses firm lips to the boy's neck.

Their hands, flesh and automail fingers intertwined, clutch each other as the panting and sultry moans steal about the room.

Steady rhythm sinks Roy's mind into a state of flashback, as his previous wonderings return to him and begin to steal over his mind, clouding his vision unto that which occurred not five hours ago...

* * *

"A bar?"

Golden honey eyes blinked innocently, then narrowed shrewdly.

"What are you guys up to?" the blond asked suspiciously. He crossed his arms. "Spit it out. Colonel's being too quiet for this not to be a setup of some kind."

The blond was right; Colonel Roy Mustang had been _very_ edgy the whole evening. Quiet. Not-mocking. Not like the Colonel at all. He hadn't cracked _one_ short joke _all night_.

Havoc sighed. The colonel's cold feet were going to give the game away.

"Come on, Edward," he coaxed, "stop being so paranoid. We just wanna have some fun, right?"

"Sounds dodgy," Ed muttered under his breath, shoving his hands deep into his coat pockets. His breath came out in steamy clouds. "And what happened to the others, huh? Why's it just us three?"

"They couldn't come."

"Why not?"

"How the hell should I know? Look, d'ya wanna come or not?"

Edward eyed the doorway suspiciously.

"Why a bar? I thought it was just a casual meal, not a drinking night."

"You can get some pretty good food in bars, you know," Havoc said knowledgably. "And cheap too. Come on, why the hesitation? You don't _have_ to drink, you know."

Still the boy wouldn't move.

"Well, if nothing else it'll be warm inside," Havoc said, exasperation creeping into his voice. Couldn't Roy do anything? He _was_ doing it for him, after all. "Come on, at least let's go in."

"I'm underage," Edward said flatly.

"I_ said_, you don't _have_ to drink," Havoc growled. "Just get your ass through the door, tiny." And ignoring a thrashing and screaming Edward's protests, he shoved the boy into '_The Welcome Maiden'_.

Roy Mustang followed, silently.

"Right, now that you've gotten me inside this hellhole," said a huffy Edward, "what's to happen in your grand scheme?"

The second lieutenant made a pouting face.

"Aw, you still suspicious? Don't worry, Ed, we've got your best interests at heart. Colonel Mustang just thought it was about time you got your first taste of the good stuff. Right, Roy?"

The colonel nodded, his somewhat distant gaze avoiding both Edward's and his well-meaning second lieutenant's.

"You said I didn't have to drink!" Edward growled.

"You don't. But why not, eh?"

"I'm underage," Edward hissed. "I'll get in trouble!"

Havoc just made an air of condescension and, "Oh, so the little boy's afraid of playing with the big guns? I thought you'd be up to it, Ed, but... Whatever. I'll get you a kiddy meal with lemonade, shall I?"

A metal fist connected rather too solidly with the wooden table. Heads turned, and Edward, noticing the attention, hissed furiously, "Don't mock me! What's going on here? _You_ said it was going to just be a casual meal, not a beer-fest!"

"Who said anything about beer?" Havoc grinned. "We're going in for the good stuff, Edward: cognac. Come on, you gotta try some."

He looked at Mustang, still vacant, and sighed, "Look, can't you back me up a bit here? Stop zoning out and talk to him, Roy."

"Havoc..."

Recognizing the expression on his colonel's face, the second lieutenant threw up his hands.

"I dunno, I just can't understand you people," he said exasperatedly. "It's impossible for me to anything right, isn't it? First you want this, then you want that, and _then_ when we get to the good bit you're all 'oh no, we can't, I don't want to'... god, I need a brandy."

Still grumbling under his breath, Havoc headed off to the bar and started flirting with the barmaid.

This left Roy Mustang and Edward Elric alone at the table.

The younger sighed.

"Well?" he asked. "What's all this about?"

Roy didn't answer.

"Mustang? Come on, what is it?"

The boy's tone of voice caused Roy to look at him finally, curiously. Was that concern haunting the edges of his words?

The Edward looking back at him was the same as ever; red coat, black shirt, blond hair.

And those intoxicating golden eyes.

Roy shivered.

"Nothing, Fullmetal. Don't worry about it. Just... you can go, if you like. Sorry for dragging you all the way out here for nothing."

Determined gold oculars softened, and Edward asked, "Colonel? Hey seriously, what's up with you tonight? You've been all... weird."

"Weird?"

The boy scratched his head. "Yeah. Quiet-like. Not as..." He searched for the word, brow creasing in what Roy couldn't help but think was an adorable way. "...not as _mocking_," Edward said, pleased with having found his word.

A wry smile kicked up the corner of Roy's mouth.

"'Mocking'? Since when did I ever mock you, Fullmetal?"

Anger flashed into Ed's eyes again. "Like just now, Colonel Shit!"

Roy couldn't help it; he chuckled.

"Perhaps," he conceded, leaning his cheek on the back of one hand and the elbow on the table, his smiling black eyes never leaving Edward's golden ones.

The boy hesitated.

"That's the other thing," he said slowly. "You're not being so... argumentative, or something."

"Funny; I always thought it was _you_ that was the argumentative one, seeing as _you're_ the one who's always yelling at _me_..."

"Hey, don't pin it all on me! _You're_ the one who's always digging for a fight!" He paused. "That's what it is; you're not trying to get me all fired up tonight."

_Nice choice of words_, Roy thought bitterly, trying in vain to force down the implications his mind was bringing to the attention of the sleepily stirring packet in his lap.

"Roy?"

The colonel found himself drowning in a sea of thick golden honey.

Sweet, sweet honey...

Edward shifted uncomfortably.

"OK, I'm seriously freaked out now. Why are you staring at me like that?"

Roy closed his eyes, gave a wry little sigh of defeat.

"Do you want a drink, Fullmetal?"

* * *

The room is still, though the musk and heavy warmth still hangs in the air like a thick fog.

Roy Mustang, unable to remember anything after leading Edward to the bar and ordering three whiskies and a cognac apiece, gives up and turns his attention to the little body lying in his arms.

Edward Elric is asleep, golden hair splayed and messy from their dynamic activities, stunning golden eyes hidden by soft lids. One arm is held close to his chest; the other, his automail arm, rests quite happily on Roy's.

The metal is warm.

Sleeping, Edward looks like a sweet innocent child, though Roy knows better to tell the blond so to his face. Besides, he of all people knows that Edward is anything but sweet, and that the innocence of childhood in him is fast waning.

It also occurs to him that the golden boy looks like a sleeping angel, but he knows it would be suicide to tell him that, too.

So Roy Mustang keeps his silence, and watches Edward sleep, listens to the boy's soft breathing, and watches his golden head rise and fall gently with his own.

How did it come to this? He doesn't know.

All he really knows is that though he may be able to watch Edward sleep peacefully now, when the boy awakes there will be Hell to pay, and more.

He wonders, will their relationship survive the onslaught? Has he really gone over the line? Perhaps he should have left it, let Edward go home when Havoc gave up on the seduction mission. Then he wouldn't be having these niggling little doubts attached to the memories of his actions, intruding on the satisfaction and contentment of the moment.

But then, is this what he deserves? After all, he had gotten the boy drunk, taken him home in what he'd thought at the time was goodwill, then taken advantage of him.

More than that, there was the age difference, their work relationship as colonel and major, the paternal feelings Roy feels for the boy...

Yes, he cares about Edward in a way Roy can only presume is fatherly. He watched over his actions carefully, made sure the boy wasn't going to do anything _too_ stupid, or go in too far over his head in his determination to accomplish his and his brother's ultimate goal. He provided backup and support to the boy, and balanced it all out by dealing out the tough lessons, too, letting Edward learn for himself from his own mistakes.

He feels a lot like Edward's guardian angel, sometimes; he feels like the closest thing the boy has to a father.

So what kind of father takes his son out drinking and then forces himself upon him? Was this going to haunt him forever?

Shaking his head despairingly, though carefully so as to not wake the sleeping angel in his arms, Roy feels the warmth of the moment leaking away as his conscience comes into play.

How had it come to this? What had he done?

What would be the price to pay?

* * *

:: sonryz ::  
My GOD that's a shitty ending. And once again the elusive lemon escapes me! I've been trying to write an outright lemon for a while now, but it never seems to work... -killstabripargh- Yuck.

ANYWAY, I thought I might as well publish this one now that I've written it. Anyone care to send in comments on what I left out? It seems rather... incomplete to me. Does anyone else think it was seriously let down by the ending? (never mind the lack of plot... -sweatdrop-) Maybe I should do another writing to justify it... Throw me a lifeline, people, I'm drowning in the failure that is this fanfiction. T.T

P.S. I don't have anything against RoyEd, it's just that I (randomly) wondered what _they_ might feel about it if it happened. And thus, this abomination was born. XD; Forgive me.


End file.
